The Mīmāṃsā Theory of Soul
The Mīmāṃsaka philosopher conceives the self (ātman) as an eternal, continuous principle of the nature of pure consciousness, and as self-subsisting and self-revealing like light. But as the self is not anything distinct from the faculty of intellect (buddhi), as the Sāṅkhya school affirms, it is held to be a dynamic principle incessantly changing with tae change of states, yet maintaining its identity intact through all its diverse stages of transition. The dual character of change and continuity is not incongruous in the least, as it is observed in the case of a serpent, which remains identical in the midst of its various changes of posture. The serpent remains a serpent, whether it is coiled or erect or extends itself. Likewise the self remains the self as consciousness unmodified through all the different states of pleasure or pain, which happen to it in its career through metempsychosis. It neither totally disappears with any of its passing states, as the Buddhists hold, nor does it remain absolutely unmodified, as the Naiyāyikas would have us believe. In the Buddhist’s theory of total destruction, there would arise the fallacy of lost deserts (kṛtanāśa) and unearned enjoyment (akṛtāgama), and in the Naiyāyika’s doctrine of absolute unchange, the transitional experiences of pleasure and pain would be unaccountable. So the two extremes of absolute change and absolute continuity are to be avoided and the Mīmāṃsaka accordingly defines the self as a continuity, subject to change of states and moods. The agent and the enjoyer both are the continuing self and not the changing moods, which have no independent status of their own. So there is no apprehension of the fallacy, which threatens the Buddhist position.
The existence of the self is a matter of direct proof, being clearly attested by recognition of the ego-principlc in such judgments as ‘I know,’ ‘I have known,’ and so on. This gives the lie direct to the doctrine of seflessness of the Buddhists. Besides, the no-soul theory fails to explain the egoistic references in our knowledge. What is indeed referred to in the judgment ‘I know’ by the I-cognition? The ‘I’ refers to the knower and the issue is whether the knower is the self or the momentary cognition, which perishes irrevocably in the second moment. If it is the self, the whole history of consciousness is at once put on an intelligible basis. If the momentary cognition is believed to be the subject, the whole thought-life becomes shrouded in an inexplicable mystery.
the existing cognition, or the past cognition, or both, or the series. In the first alternative, the judgment should be in the form ‘I know’ and not ‘I have known,’ because the present cognition did not exist in the past. In the second alternative, the judgment will be ‘I have known or did know’ and not ‘I do know,’ because the past cognition does not persist in the present. The third alternative equally falls to the ground; because the past and the present do Dot co-exist and so there can be no reference to an identical Self. The fourth alternative cannot be entertained either, as the series is an unreal fiction and has no existence outside the individual moments. So the subjecthood of the momentary cognition in all its alternatives being ruled out of court, the ego-consciousness must be supposed to refer to an eternal ego-principle, the underlying, continuous self, which can become the subject of the past, present and future judgments. That this subject is an eternal principle is proved by the following arguments: The subject of the past ego-judgment is the subject of the present judgment also. Because, it is referred to equally by the past and the present ego-judgment. Or, the past and present cognitions in a particular subject-series do certainly relate to an identical self, because they all have a reference to a common subject.
It may be legitimately urged that if the self is an eternal, unitary principle, then cognition (buddhi) also will become eternal and one, as the latter is regarded by the Mīmāṃsakas to be identical with the self. But this is plainly opposed to their theory, as the scholiast Śabara expressly states that cognition is momentary and docs not last up to the moment of another cognition. It also goes against Jaimini’s position, who defines perception to be a cognition, which is originated by sense-object contact. Certainly origination does not congrue with its eternity. Moreover, if cognition is one simple entity, the sixfold classification of pramāṇas will have no meaning.
Kumārila has anticipated these objections and says that the self and cognitions must be admitted to be one and eternal fact, as cognitions have no existence outside the self. The multiplicity of cognitions is not due to any intrinsic diversity of nature, but is purely accidental, being superposed by the diversity of objective data. It cannot be urged that the intellect, being one and eternal and having no constitutional diversity, should cognise all the cognisable objects in one sweep and not in succession. Because though its cognising capacity is present intact for all time, it cognises only those objects that arc presented to it through the sense-channel. And this is due to the limitation of the physical organism, in which it is imprisoned for the time being in consequence of its past deeds. That permanent efficiency and occasional functioning are not inconsistent is proved by the behaviour of natural objects as well.
We know fire possesses permanent capacity for combustion; but this capacity comes into play only when combustible objects are thrown into it. A clean mirror and a spotless crystal have the natural aptitude for catching the reflection of all material objects; but they reflect the image of those objects only, which actually come within their range. So the self, which is held by us, unlike the Sāṅkhya philosophers, to be identical with the cognitive faculty (buddhi), cognises those objects alone, which are presented through the medium of sense-organs, though it is, by its very nature, all-pervading and all-cognisant, being consciousness itself. The cognitive faculty too, being one with the self, is equally eternal, but appears to emerge and disappear like a perishable entity owing to its association with the sense-organs, whose activites are perishable. The limitation of its cognising capacity is also due to the limitation of the sense-organs, whose powers are circumscribed by their very constitution. The eternal nature of the intellect, or the self for the matter of that, is however proved by the continuity of its conscient nature through all the diverse acts of knowledge. The diversity, as has been observed before, is that of the data and as such is purely accidental. Those thinkers (the Buddhists), who concentrate their attention on and thus emphasise the diversity of contents, are deluded into thinking that consciousness is a varying manifold. But they obviously ignore the aspect of real continuity, which becomes apparent when the diversity of contents is overlooked, and so are liable to the charge of partial observation. It is, therefore, as a matter of logical necessity that we shall have to postulate the existence of the self as an eternal principle consisting of pure consciousness, and as all-pervading, capable of tenanting any number of bodies in its course of metampsychosis.
The Buddhist’s position
The Buddhist observes that the Mīmāṃsaka’s conception of the self or consciousness as an identity in diversity or a continuity in change, savours of mysticism for its defiance of logical canons. Diversity, it is alleged, belongs to the objective data and not to the consciousness in its own right. So continuity is its essential nature and diversity is only an accidental superposition of the objective data. But what about the illusory perception of elephants, horses and the like in a place, where they do not actually exist? The diversity of cognitions in these circumstances cannot be explained away by reference to objective data, which do not certainly exist in the place and time concerned. But we forget that Kumārila holds that even such abnormal experiences as dreams and illusions arc conversant about real objective facts, which, however, arc presented in a wrong spatio-temporal relation. So here too the diversity of consciousness is due to the influence of objective data. But this is cleverness par excellence! The time and place, to which these experiences refer, admittedly do not belong to the data of these experiences, even granting that these data are real objects. But why should, we humbly enquire, these data, real facts that they are, appear in a place and time which are apparently not their own? At any rate, the time and place in question are unreal impositions of the imagination. If you hold that the time and place also are real facts, only they are presented in a different setting, the past being confounded with the present and the distant with the near, we cannot help believing that you have parted company with common sense and reason. How can anything be presented as another, or in a setting which is actually different from its own? If that be the case, anything could be presented as any other thing and we must withhold our trust in the evidentiary value of our knowledge. The result will be confusion and the death of all selective activities, which can proceed on the basis of real distinctions, really discriminated.
Kumārila, again, cannot regard these experiences as objectified ideas, as ideas, according to him, are destitute of articulate forms, which, he opines, can belong to objects and not to ideas. And these objects are certainly absent in the place, where they are actually experienced. The plea of the presentation of real objects in a wrong spatio-temporal setting has been beaten hollow. So it must be admitted that these experiences are absolutely independent of objective data and are purely subjective (nirālambana). The diversity of consciousness, therefore, is intrinsic and real and not due to the accidental association of the data. And this diversity being incompatible with continuity, consciousness, or the self for that matter, must be accounted as diverse and discrete, in other words, fluxional. It may be contended that though the individual cognitions, that vary at every moment, may be fluxional, still the subject, of which they are so many passing moods or states, does continue unchanged and unmodified as consciousness. But this is mere quibbling with words. Consciousness and cognition are the same thing; they differ only in name. Certainly difference in name alone does not connote difference in nature. If consciousness is eternal and unchanging, cognitions also will be the same. If cognitions are allowed to be momentary, consciousness also will be momentary, as consciousness and cognitions have been proved to be identical and things identical cannot logically be supposed to have mutually contradictory characters. And the identity of consciousness and cognitive states has been admitted by Kumārila also.
The absence of objective data in illusions and dreams thus proves fatal to the continuity of the self, as propounded by Kumārila. It also demolishes his theory of knowledge, which holds that knowledge is imperceptible per se. Because, the contents of illusions, being purely subjective facts, are not distinct from the cognitive consciousness, and unless consciousness is self-cognised, the contents also cannot be cognised, being identical with the former. So what is presented in illusion is nothing but a projection of subjective ideas (which are but the copies of external data imbibed in previous perceptions). And consciousness being self-luminous, the idea reveals itself; but as this idea is nothing distinct from consciousness, illusion is held by us to be a case of self-presentation or self-intuition (ātmakhyāti). Kumārila’s theory of knowledge ignominiously fails to render an account of these experiences, because consciousness being eo ipso imperceptible in his theory, illusion cannot be regarded as experience of a subjective idea, as idea and consciousness are not distinct entities. On the other hand, it cannot be regarded as a case of objective cognition either, since the object is absent.
Moreover, if all-cognising consciousness is present intact and for all time, then, what is there to prevent the appearance of all the cognitions at once? If the cognition of sound is the selfsame cognition that apprehends taste, colour or the like, then these cognitions should arise all at once, because the cognitive consciousness is present with its efficiency unimpaired. If, however, the sound-cognition is not admitted to be same with other cognitions, you yourself admit diversity in consciousness. The example of fire is not relevant at all, because fire has not the power to consume everything at all times; had it been otherwise, the whole world would have been reduced to a heap of cinders. The truth of the matter is that fire develops its combustive power only in association with a combustible substance, and it is for this reason that simultaneous combustion of all things does not take place. As regards mirror and crystal, etc., they too are fluxional and so change every moment; and when related to objects like blue lotus and the like, they develop the power of reflecting their images. If they remained constant and unmodified in their nature, they would either reflect the images always or not at all. Moreover, the use of the imagery of the mirror and the crystal as aa aid to the understanding of the nature and functioning of consciousness is out of place and only obfuscates the matter at issue. Because, the image, that is supposed to be superimposed on the surface of:he mirror, is only an appearance and not a real thing. It cannot; be supposed that the image is a real object that effects an entry into the body of the mirror, because mirror is a compact substance and not porous, and two corporeal substances cannot occupy the same space, which is, however, felt to be the case. The crystal, too, does not enclose within itself the image of an object. This is evidenced by the fact that though in association with a scarlet flower, it looks red when seen from the front, it is found to be entirely white by persons looking at it from two extremities. And even if this receiving of image had been real, the receptive crystal would vary with every single act of reflection. So the image and its reflection must be set down as an unreal appearance occasioned by the peculiar nature of the receptive substances concerned. But this reception of image is out of the question in consciousness, because no illusion is possible with regard to its own self. Since the image reflected in consciousness will be identified with it, consciousness itself will be infected with illusion and there being no other consciousness to apprehend it, the illusory image will remain unknown. Neither can it be known by itself, as consciousness in your theory is eo ipso imperceptible; nor can it be cognised by another consciousness as consciousness is regarded as one identical entity. The false appearance of the image in a crystal or a mirror, however, is not an unlikely phenomenon, because the mirror and its cognition remain distinct and separate. But in the case of consciousness, the basis of reflection and the cognising subject being one, the illusion cannot possibly be felt. In the Buddhist theory of illusion, however, no such difficulty arises, as the particular illusory cognition emerges with the stamp of illusion as an altogether novel phenomenon under the influence of its proper causes and conditions and being self-cognisant, illusion is felt. But as consciousness is held to be an eternal substance in the Mlmāṃsā system, Kumārila cannot accept this explanation offered by us.
The continuity of conscient nature in all the different cognitions and feelings has been interpreted by Kumārila as proof of the permanence and unity of consciousness per se. But by adopting this view Kumārila ignores the diversity of contents, which is very real and which cannot be explained away as accidental superposition of objective data, as in illusion and dream there are no objective data, but diversity is still there. The conclusion is irresistible that the different cognitions, the diverse units of experience, are absolutely distinct and discrete entities and have no underlying unity in them. The feeling of unity of our conscious life must therefore be explained by reference to a fundamental character, which characterises the diverse knowledge units without exception; and this fundamental characteristic is to be found in their common difference from non-conscious entities. The unity or homogeneity of consciousness is thus a negative conception at bottom.
If the self be an eternal, uniform principle of the Mīmāṃsā pattern, then, there could be no diversity of states, such as pleasure, pain and the like in its nature. If on the other hand these diverse states really appertain to the self, then the self must forfeit its uniformity and eternality. In order to avoid this unpleasant predicament, Kumīrila has come forward with his theory that the self is neither absolutely uniform nor absolutely variable. Thus, though the self passes through diverse states of pleasure and pain and is variable to that extent, it does not abandon its substantiality and conscient nature, but maintains its existence all throughout its chequered career. As regards the states or moods, they also do not absolutely cease to exist. What happens is this—the previous mood only subsides and gets merged in the existence of the self to make room for the emergence of the subsequent mood and there is no such thing as absolute cessation of existence. The individual moods or states, taken by themselves, are certainly antagonistic to each other. But they lose their antagonism in the whole, which embraces them all in its capacious bosom. And this is attested by experience that the self runs through all the diverse and antagonistic psychical phenomena, which are owned up by it. So the antagonism or contradiction amidst the individual moods is either suspended or reconciled in the existence of the self, of which they are passing phases or moods.
Śāntarakṣita observes that Kumārila’s desperate attempt to reconcile unity with diversity looks like an attempt to patch up the parts of a hopelessly broken reed and will not stand a moment’s scrutiny. If these passing moods are not absolutely different from the self, then the self will be subject to emergence and cessation like its moods. If, however, these incidents are supposed to belong to the moods only and not to the self, the self and the moods will be absolutely distinct entities, as the criterion of distinction is the possession of contradictory attributes alone. If this criterion is not accepted, one self cannot be distinguished from another self, as they are regarded as distinct entities only by virtue of their mutually contradictory character. So Kumārila’s conception of the self as a variable constant has to be abandoned, as it is fraught with self-contradiction. To say that experience warrants such supposition is to betray a vicious lack of critical judgment. Experience is of a certainty the ultimate; court of appeal in a philosophical dispute, but not uncritical. experience. Experience has to be tested and assayed in the furnace of logical thought before its true import can be realised;, in default it will land us in uncritical empiricism. Experience, therefore, caninot be a solvent of self-contradiction. So the. idea of the self as a variable constant must be abandoned.
As for the plea that there is no absolute loss of any particular mood, which only gets merged in the existence of the self, when another mood emerges, the less said about it the better. If the particular moods merge their individuality in the self, then pain should also be felt when pleasure emerges. Certainly this merger can be understood if there is complete identification of one with the other, otherwise it will be only a word without a meaning. And if this identification is conceded, the self also will be subject to birth and dissolution like the moods, because things, which are identical, cannot possibly have contradictory attributes. As regards the other plea (which has been put forward to avoid the so-called fallacy of loss of earned deserts and acquisition of unearned fruits), viz., that the agent of action and the enjoyer of its fruits are the self and not the passing moods of it, it will suffice to say that it stands self-condemned. If the self remains the same unaltered entity, it cannot presumably assume the role of an agent, much less of an enjoyer, which connotes the emergence of novel attributes. It has been pertinently pointed out by the venerable doctor, Dignāga, that if the self undergoes any modification on the emergence of a cognition, it will be impermanent; if it remains unaltered as before, the self cannot be conceived to be a cogniser. Kumārila, however, has answered that so far as the qualitative aspect (i.e., the passing moods) of the self is concerned, the self may be called impermanent, bat that does not affect the fundamental reality of consciousness quâ consciousness, which remains uniform and unchanged. But this only confounds the issue. We have proved that no such line of cleavage subsists between consciousness and its moods; and so consciousness per se is to be accounted as variable. If it had been a question of naming only, we could also say that consciousness might be called a continuous entity, if its continuity in the series is contemplated. But this nomenclature does not arrest the fluxional nature of consciousness per se, which totally ceases to exist in the second moment, in which a new cognition emerges in its place. The analogy of the serpent, which has been trotted out in defence of the permanence of the self, is based on a positive misconception. Because, the serpent too is fluxional and hence its change of postures is possible. If it had been absolutely fixed and unalterable, no such transition could have been possible. Change of moods connotes nothing less than change of nature, absolute and irrevocable.
The argument that ego-consciousness must centre round a permanent self and not any individual conscious state, which being transitory cannot account for its persistence and continuity, also proceeds on a false assumption. Ego-consciousness in reality is absolutely unfounded and as such cannot be affiliated to any ontological principle. Its raison d'etre is to be found in the beginningless false tendencies inherent in our consciousness— tendencies which are apt to see reality in unreality, permanence in change. Our ego-consciousness is thus an illusion, which is the product of these tendencies. It cannot be questioned as to why should these tendencies work in some particular conscious-ness-series and not in others? Because, such questioning is not precluded in the theory of permanent self also. Why should a particular ego-consciousness relate to a particular self and not other selves? If this delimitation is to be explained by the peculiar individuality of the selves concerned, the same explanation is possible in the theory of flux, as the series or the continuum (santāna) does duty for the permanent self and so comes to have all the incidents that happen to the latter.
The opponent may contend, ‘Well, you may explain the delimitation of ego-consciousness to a particular subject-series by an appeal to the peculiar individuality of the former. But it does not follow that ego-consciousness should be an unfounded illusion for that! The answer is that no such foundation can be posited for this ego-consciousness. If it is affiliated to a permanent self as the cause and ground of it, then all the various ego-ideas should be produced all at once. There can be no reason why these ego-ideas should emerge in a graduated scale, as the sole and sufficient cause of these is present intact in the shape of the permanent self. Nor can an eternal verity have any necessity for other auxiliary circumstances, which, we have proved ever and anon, can have no effect on it. Nor again can ego-consciousness be regarded as a single, individual fact. The very fact that such ego-consciousness emerges occasionally is sufficient to prove its multiplicity and plurality. We do not have any ego-consciousness in dreamless sleep, in swoon and in fits of intoxication. If, on the other hand, this ego-consciousness is supposed to be affiliated to the individual conscious units, then ego-consciousness should be as distinct and pronounced as the individual cognitions, e.g., visual and auditory cognitions, etc., are. But as this is neither of one kind nor of another, it is futile to search for its foundation, which is nowhere.
Kumārila, however, has opposed the theory of unfounded egoism on the ground that vāsanās (tendencies), being memory-impressions or sub-conscious desires, generated by experience, can never go wrong with reference to their objects. The memory-impression of the ego-idea, too, cannot be erroneous with reference to the ego-principle, which is its object. The reason is that memory is possible if there is an original experience behind its back, and this original experience must be an authentic one, as even error is made possible if there is a previous experience, which must be authentic in the final analysis. So if there is a memory-impression (vāsanā) of the self, it must refer to the real self and not a fictitious self, as the Buddhists would have us believe. And there is no warrant or occasion for our supposing this egoistic reference to be unauthentic, as it has not been sublated as yet by any stronger evidence.
Śāntarakṣita observes that this egoistic reference, out of which Kumārila seeks to make capital, has been proved to be opposed to reason. So it does not permit to be said that ego-experience is an uncontradicted and unerring evidence of the existence of the self. The contention, that memory-impression (vāsanā) cannot go wrong so far as its objective reference is concerned, is baseless and hollow. It is a matter of common knowledge how persons, religiously inclined, conjure up false ideas of God as the First Cause of the world, as an omniscient and omnipotent being and so on and so forth. Kumārila, too, is sane enough not to believe in these superstitious vagaries. But what is the root of these ideas? Certainly false impressions, which have been fostered by false teaching and false practices. If these ideas are allowed to be unfounded in an objective reality, why should you make a difficulty in the case of ego-consciousness? We have proved by logic that the latter cannot have an objective foundation, be it an eternal self or a transitory cognition. Kumārila is obviously labouring under an obsession in his endeavour to prove the existence of an eternal self, but he has only built a castle in the air.
Before bringing this dissertation to a close, the present writer feels it imperative to make a brief observation with regard to the presentation of the Bhaṭṭa theory of soul in some of the orthodox Brāhminical works. Vidyāraṇya observes that the self according to the followers of Bhaṭṭa is a multiple entity with a twofold aspect of consciousness and unconsciousness. So it has been compared to a fire-fly for having darkness and illumination both in its constitution. It may be brought into line with Kumārila’s conception of the self, if the self is taken to include the concrete whole, both its essential nature and its qualitative contents, the former being self-revealing and the latter being imperceptible. This conception of the soul of the Bhaṭṭa school as a compound of spiritual and unspiritual factors is a logical construction of the Vedāntist critics and is not the orthodox presentation.
This is deducible from the remarks of the Nyāyaratnāvalī,
“The self (sic. of the Bhāttas) is a compound of a spiritual and an unspiritual factor. By the former it functions as a cognising subject, and by the latter, it undergoes modifications as cognition, feeling and the like and also becomes the object of the judgment ‘I know myself.’”
The second set of functions is possible in an unspiritual substance, as spirit or consciousness is impartite and unmodifiable according to Vedānta. Nārāyaṇa Paṇḍita, the author of the second chapter of the Mānameyodaya, which deals with the metaphysics of the Bhaṭṭa school, on the other hand, has given us a definition of the self, which is of a piece with that of the Nyāya-Vaiśeṣika school. This obvious departure from Kumārila is to be set down to the influence of the Śāstradīpikā, in which Pārthasārathi Miśra emphatically denies the essential spirituality of the self and defines it as the substrate of consciousness, etc. The plain texts of Kumārila which speak of the soul as pure consciousness and absolute bliss have been unceremoniously brushed aside as concession to unorthodox views (Paramata). It is curious that the same writer in his commentary on the S. V. has plainly admitted the spirituality of the self. It is therefore gratifying to observe that Śāntarakṣita and Kamalaśīla have given an accurately correct account of Kumārila’s theory, which has been either misunderstood or badly presented by some orthodox writers, who should have known better. This fidelity to a formidable opponent, whom they have subjected to a scathing criticism, instinctively inspires our respect for Śāntarakṣita and his worthy disciple and commentator. The intellectual honesty of these two authors is an object of sincere admiration, particulary when we consider that authors of even outstanding merit have sometimes failed to do justice to their rivals and sought to gain a cheap victory. But Śāntarakṣita is too great to have love for claptrap and easy triumphs, gained by not very scrupulous means.
FOOTNOTES AND REFERENCES: :
“......ātmā kena prakāśyate |
atmanai’va prakāśyo’yam ātmā jyotir itī’ritam”
S.V., P. 725, śl. 142.
“svasaṃvedyaḥ sa sambhavati, nā’sāv anyena śakyate draṣṭum, aśakyatvāc ca nā’sāv api śakyate nidarśayitum...... pareṇa na gṛhyata ity atrā’pi Brāhmaṇam bbavati, ‘agṛhyo na hi gṛhyata’iti pareṇa na gṛhyata iti tadabhiprāvam etat, kutaḥ, svayaṃjyotiṣṭvavacanāt”
Śabarabhāṣya, p. 22, 11; 1 and 20.
‘The self is self-cognisable and cannot be cognised by another. The Brāhmaṇa text, which speaks of it as incognisable, is to be understood in relation to other subjects and not to its own self, otherwise the text, which speaks of it as the self-shining light would be unmeaning.’
syātāṃ hy atyantanāśe hi kṛtanāśākṛtāgamau |
sukhaduḥkhādibhogaś ca nai’va syād ekarūpiṇaḥ |
S. V., p. 694.
tasmād ubhayahānena vyāvṛttyanugamātmakaḥ |
puruṣo’bhyupagantavyaḥ kuṇḍalādiṣu sarpavat |
S. V., p. 695.
na ca kartṛtvabhoktṛtve puṃso’vasthāsamāśrite |
tenāvasthāvatas tattvāt kartai’vā”pnoti tatphalam |
S. V., p. 695, ś l. 29.
Compare the following observations of Pārthasārathi Miśra regarding the statement of the scholiast that
‘the self and cognition (buddhi) are eternal and directly perceptible, which raises a difficulty, as in the Mīmāṃsā theory of knowledge cognitions are not amenable to perception but can be known by inference. Pārthasārathi solves the difficulty by saying that cognitions as the moods of the self are imperceptible and transitory, but here the word ‘ buddhi’ stands for the self, which is both eternal and perceptible, as it is consciousness itself (and as such self-revealing).’
nanu caitanyasyā’pratyakṣatvāt kathaṃ pratyakṣavacanam, satyaṃ, citiśaktir apratyakṣā, atra tu caitanyasvabhāvaḥ pramātai’va buddhiśabdeno’cyate. sa ca pratyakṣo nityaś ca, tasya jñānākhyo vikāro’pratyakṣo’nityaś ce’ti!
S. V., Nyāyaratnākara, p. 635.
tenā’smāt pratyabhijñānāt sarvalokāvadhāritāt |
S. V., p. 724.
Vide T. S., śls. 229-37, and S. V., pp. 719-24.
vyatītāhaṅkṛtiś cādyo jñātā’dyā’py anuvartate |
ahaṃpratyayagamyatvād idānīntanaboddhṛvat |
—S. V., p. 831, T. S., śl. 238.
hyastanādyatanāḥ sarve tulyārthā ekabuddhivat |
—S. V., p. 724, T. S., śl. 240.
buddhīnām api caitanyasvābhāvyāt puruṣasya ca |
nityatvam ekatā ce’ṣṭā bhedas tu viṣayāśrayaḥ |
—S. V., p. 833, T. S., śl. 242.
svarūpeṇa yathā vahnir nityaṃ dahanakarmakaḥ |
upanītaṃ dahaty arthaṃ dāhyaṃ nā’nyaṃ na cā’nyathā |
yathā vā datpaṇaḥ svaccho yathā ca sphaṭiko’malaḥ |
yad yan nidhīyate dravyaṃ tac-chāyāṃ pratipadyate |
tatbai’va nitya-caitanyāḥ pumāṃso dehavṛttayuḥ |
gṛhṇanti karaṇānītān rūpādīn dhīr asau matā |
S. V., p. 834, śls. 405-407.
Cf. na hi śaktir astī’ty etāvatā sarvadi kāryaṃ kartavyaṃ, śaktasyā’pi sahakārisācivyasannidhyapekṣālambanena kāryakaraṇakramopapatteḥ.’
Nyāyuratnākara, p. 834.
sai’ve’ti no’cyate buddhi(?) arthabhedānusīribhiḥ(?) |
na cā’sty apratyabhijñānam artbabhede’ nupāśrite |
S. V., p. 835, śl. 410.
jñānaśaktisvabhāvo’ to nityaḥ sarvagataḥ pumān |
dehāntarakṣamaḥ kalpyaḥ so’ gacchan neva yokṣyate |
S. V., p. 707, śl. 73.
Vide Nyāyaratnākara for a detailed exposition of the logical necessity.
svapnādipratyaye bābyaṃ sarvathā na hi ne’ṣyate |
sarvatrā” lambanaṃ bāhyaṃ deśa-kālānyathātmakam |
S. V., p. 242, śl. 107½ to 108½.
Cf. ‘bāhyam eva deśāntare kālāntare vā’ nubhūtam eva svapne smaryamāṇaṃ doṣavaśāt sannihita-deśakāla-vattayā’vagamyate, ato’trāpi na bābyābhāva iti.
N. R., pp. 242-43.
nanu taddeśasambandho nai’va tāsāṃ tathāṣṭi tat |
kim iti pratibhāṣante tena rūpeṇa tatra ca |
T. S., śl. 251,
Cf. ‘na hy anyena rūpeṇā’nyasya pratibhāṣanaṃ yuktam atiprasaṅgāt. evaṃ hi sarvam eva jñānaṃ sarvaviṣayaṃ prasajyeta. tataś ca pratiniyatārthavyavasthoccheda eva syāt.’
T. S. P.. p. 101.
bhavanmate hi nā’kāro buddher bāhyas tu varnyate |
na vivakṣitadeśe ca gajayaṣṭyādayaḥ sthitāḥ |
T. S., śl. 252.
Cf. ākāravān bāhyo’rtho nirākārā buddhir iti vacanāt.
T. S. P., 101.
‘tataś ca yaddeśakālasambaddhās te gajādayas taddeśasambandhitvenai’va pratibhāṣeran. svavirahiṇi tu deśāntare kālantare ca kim iti pratibhāsante. tasmān nirālumbanā evai’te pratyayāḥ paramārthato’saṃkīrṇasvabhāvāś calātmānāś ca kādācitkatvād iti siddham; tatsvabhāvasya ca puṃso’nityatvānekatve ca siddhe.’
syān mataṃ pratyayas tasya puruṣasya dharmaḥ. tena tasya bhede’pi na puṃso bhedo dharmitvāt tasye’ti, tad ayuktam. pratyayaś caitanyaṃ buddhir jñānam ity anarthāntaratvāt. na hi nāmabhedamātreṇa vastūnāṃ svabhāvo bhidyate. kiṃ ca nāmabhede’pi teṣāṃ pratyayānāṃ caitanyātmakam ekam anugāmi rūpam iṣṭam eva. tasya ca caitanyasyā’bhede pratyayānām api tatsvabhāvānām avibhāga eva, anyathā hi viruddhadharmādhyāsād aikāntiko bheda eva syāt.
‘etenai’va nirālambanapratyayapratipādanena apratyakṣatvaṃ buddheḥ pratyuktam. tathāhi sa parisphuran nākāro na bāhyo gajādir iti sādhitam, tataś ca taṃ tathā parisphurantam ākāram ātmabhūtam eva pratipadyamānā buddhayaḥ svayaṃprakāśarūpatvāt svasaṃvidrūpāḥ sidhyanti.’
T. S. P., p. 101, under śl. 252.
Vide T.S. and the Pañjikā, śls. 259-262.
abodharūpabhedaṃ tu samānaṃ sarvabuddhiṣu |
āropya pratyabhijñānaṃ nānātve’pi pravartate.
— Ibid, śl. 263.
Cf. ‘avaśyaṃ cai’tad vijñeyaṃ—yan nānātva eva sati vijātīyavyāvṛttikṛtam etat pratyabhijñānaṃ na punar anānātva eve’ti. tathā hi nirālambanāsu samāropabuddhiṣv arthabhede’nupāśrite’py apratyabhijñānam asty eva, na hi tatrai’vaṃ bhavati, yai’va gajabuddbir āsīt sai’va turaṅgasyandanabuddhir iti............ tena yad uktaṃ—‘na cā’sty apratyabhijñānam arthabhede’ nupāśrita’iti tad asiddham.’
T.S.P, p. 105.
sukhaduḥkhādy avasthāś ca gacchann api naro mama |
caitanyadravyasattvādirūpaṃ nai’va vimuñcati |
na cā’vasthāntarotpāde pūrvā’tyantaṃ vinaśyati |
uttarānuguṇārthā tu sāmānyātmani līyate |
svarūpeṇa hy avasthānām anyonyasya virodhitā |
aviruddhas tu sarvāsu sāmānyātmā pratīyate |
S.V., pp. 695-96.
Cf. ‘nanv avasthānām audāsīnyakartṛtvādīnāṃ mitho virodhāt pūrvasyāṃ dharmiṇy eva vyavasthitāyām uttarasyāḥ kathaṃ niṣpattiḥ, ata āha svarūpeṇe’ti.’
N.R., p. 696.
T.S., śls. 268-71.
buddhijanmami puṃsaś ca vikṛtir yady anityaiā |
athā’vikṛtir ātmākhyaḥ pramāte’ti na yujyate |
Dignāga quoted in T. S. P., p. 108.
nā’nityaśabdavācyatvam ātmano vinivāryate |
vikriyāmātravācitvān na hy ucchedo’sya tāvatā |
na nityaśabdavācyatvam ātmano vinivāryate |
svarūpavikriyāvattvāt tadvyucchedo’sya tāvatā |
T. S., śl. 273.
T. S., śls. 275-277.
nityālambanapakṣe tu sarvāhaṅkṛtayastataḥ |
sakṛd eva prasūyeran śaktabetuvyavasthiteḥ |
anityālambanatve’pi spaṣṭābhāḥ syus tataḥ pare |
ālambanārthasadbhāvaṃ vyarthaṃ paryanuyuñjate |
T.S. śls. 278-79.
jñātari pratyabhijñānaṃ vāsanā kartum arhati |
nā’tasmin sa iti prajñāṃ na hy asau bhrāntikāraṇam |
tan nā’haṃpratyayo bhrāntir iṣṭo bādbakavarjanāt |
S. V., p. 720, śls. 124-25.
Cf. smṛtihetur hi saṃskāro vāsanā, sā’nubhūte’rthe smṛtim janayatī’ti yuktaṃ, na tv asau bhrāntihetuḥ, yenā’tasmin tadgraho’nayā syād iti,
N. R. under the above.
nā’nantaroktayā yuktyā tasya bādhopadarśanāt |
īśvarādiṣu bhaktānāṃ taddhetutvādivib hramāḥ |
vāsanāmātrabhāvācca jāyante vividhāḥ katham |
nirālambanatā cai’vara ahaṅkāre yadā sthitā |
tan nā’haṃpratyaye grāhye jñātā kaścana vidyate |
tataḥ sarvapramāṇeṣu na dṛṣṭānto’ sti siddhibhāk |
hetavaś cā’śrayāsiddhā yathāyogam udāhṛtāḥ |
T. S., śls. 281-284.
Vide Pañcadaśi, Ch. VI, śls. 95-97.
Cf. ātmano’sty aṃśadvayaṃ, cidaṃśo’cidaṃśaś ca; cidaṃśena draṣṭṛtvam...... acidaṃśena jñānasukhādipariṇāmitvaṃ, mām ahaṃ jānāmī’ti jñeyatvañ ca’.
See also P. Sastri, Intro. to the P. Mīmāṃsā, p. 95.
(P. 155, F.N. 3 ante). P. Sastri attributes this anomaly to the author’s resentment of the Advaita Vedānta doctrines. But I think that quite the contrary is the case, as the position of the S. D. has been accepted by later Mīmāṃsā writers, to wit, Nārāyaṇa and Gāgābhaṭṭa, as the orthodox Mīmāṃsā doctrine. Vide Mānameyodaya, p. 80 ct seq., Bhāṭṭacintāmaṇi, p. 66, Ben. ed., Intro, to P. Mīmāṃsā, p. 99., Śāstradīpikā, p. 129, Tarkapāda, Born., ed.